Roadside
by sUnKiSsT
Summary: Red Meat Tag. Sam and Dean have a roadside talk on the way back to the Bunker. A little bit of hurt and angst for the boys!


**Note:** _Just a roadside conversation between Sam and Dean after the events of Red Meat. Can be read as an additional tag to my one-shot_ "Too Close" _if you want! A little hurting Sammy and angst Dean in this one._

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 **Roadside**

Two hours into their drive back to the bunker, and the silence in the car is nearly overwhelming. Sam is relaxed into his seat like he hadn't just been shot in the gut a day before, and Dean thinks he might just go crazy. "You doing okay over there?" He asks, green eyes flitting over when his little brother shifts slightly.

Sam huffs out a tired laugh and nods, "Yeah I'm good. Really." He stills in his seat, but one large hand drifts across his stomach and his face is tense with pain.

"Maybe you should stretch out for a bit in the back." Dean suggests, voice quiet with worry.

"No, I'm okay man. The painkillers are just wearing off. Once we're home I'll lay out in bed and get plenty of rest." Sam replies with assurance, before asking, "Are you sure you're alright? Kinda been a rough couple days for you."

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes, "You were the one that got shot, choked and left to die in the woods. I'm friggen peachy."

"Dean…." Sam begins, but his older brother cuts him off before he can get past the name.

"I left you out there. I left you in a pool of blood in a backwoods cabin with no way to call for help and two werewolves trailing us." Dean snarls, self-disgust in his tone. His red rimmed eyes, a combination of exhaustion and stress, are turning bright with saltwater. He swipes a forearm across his face angrily and steps down on the gas.

The Impala lurches forward and Sam, not expecting it, lets a small gasp of pain, his already pale face loses another couple of shades.

"Shit, Sammy. I'm sorry." Dean apologizes instantly, one hand reaching out to squeeze his kid brother's shoulder in sympathy.

"Pull over."

"We shouldn't stop, you need to get home and get some real rest." Dean instantly protests with a shake of his head. "I'm good, I just want to get back to the Bunker."

"Please, Dean."

Dean doesn't answer, but he slows the Impala down with a sigh and pulls off to the shoulder of the road, unable to say no to his brother when the kid is hurt. _I almost lost him for good this time._

As soon as the rumbling of the engine dies, Sam carefully makes his way out of the car, white knuckled fingers gripping the doorframe as he attempts to pull himself upright. Dean curses and is out of the Impala in flash, hurrying around the other side to give the younger man a hand. "Slow down a damn minute and let me help you at least."

Sam is trembling beneath his support, and lets out a relieved gasp once he's upright and leaning against the back door of the car. "Thanks." He mutters to Dean, attempting a weak smile. It doesn't disguise the sweat breaking out on his brow, and Dean frowns.

"This is ridiculous Sam, your damn stitches are gonna pop moving around unnecessarily like this – grade A or not." He berates, but he relaxes against the car beside his brother, his right side close to Sam so that the taller man can lean against him.

"Yeah, well, we need to talk." Sam says matter-of-factly, one eyebrow raised as if daring Dean to argue.

Dean stares into the trees, arms folded stubbornly and snaps, "No, we don't. You need a fucking a bed and I need a drink a. s. a. freaking P."

"What happened out there wasn't your fault, Dean. The hunt went sideways- it's not the first time and it won't be the last. Stop with the guilt, we made it out and managed to save a life or two on the way." Sam plods on, ignoring the older hunters outburst. "You had two scared vics and…and you thought I was de- gone. You did the best thing."

"I left you alone with that bastard, he choked you out – nearly killed you. You were dying fifteen feet away and _I didn't even know_." Dean snarls, hands balling in to fists at his sides. He looks over at his brother, "I never should've left him alone with you like that – fucking _stupid_."

"There's no way you could've known he was capable of what he did, man. Hell, I didn't even figure it out until he was practically on top of me." Sam argues rationally.

There's a ball building up in Deans throat again, the vision of Sam stretched out and unmoving in that cabin flashes fresh across his vision. "I thought you were dead, Sammy. I thought you died and I wasn't even there with you." He chokes out around the burning lump.

"I know." Sam says quietly, shifting slightly so that more of his weight is against his brother's side, "It's okay, I don't blame you, not even for a second."

"But it's not. It's not okay." Dean's voice is heavy with guilt, "I didn't do CPR, I just sat there. Sammy I didn't even try to save you – I just, I _sat_ there. How could I not even try?"

Sam turns slightly so that he can see his brothers face full on, ignoring the fire in his belly as his wound protests at the movement. "Dean, hey c'mon look at me. You did the best you could, I know you did. You were comin' back for me, right?"

Dean nods, "Of course I was, I – Sam it nearly killed me leaving you like that." _More than you'll ever know, little brother,_ he thinks to himself, his conversation with Billie floats unbidden across his mind. _No more second chances._

"I'm sorry you went through that."

Grunting, Dean shrugs it off, "Nothing compared to what you went through."

Sighing, Sam shakes his head at his big brothers stubbornness, "Honestly, it wasn't even that bad. Adrenaline, you know? My main concern was getting back to you, before Corbin turned. If anything, what he did might have _helped_ me - slowed things down enough for me to get help later."

"You are so full of shit, Sammy." _But thanks for trying kid._ The younger Winchesters weight is feeling heavier against his side, so Dean straightens up a bit. "C',mon let's go home and getcha in a real bed."

Sam grumbles a bit, but doesn't put up much of a fight as Dean carefully maneuvers him back into the Impala. "I'm not done talking about this." He threatens half-heartedly, it doesn't carry much weight of course, not with the lines of pain bracketing his eyes and mouth.

Dean starts up the engine, but looks at his brother before pulling back onto the road. "Yeah yeah, we can resume this chick flick moment once you stop doing your best impression of a spook. Such a princess, Sammy."

"Whatever." Sam responds grouchily, but there's a small upturn on his lips, because Dean looks steadier than before and his eyes don't look quite as haunted.

"Try and get some sleep, Bunkers a few hours away still. You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in the back?"

"Don't be a jerk." Sam answers, eyes already falling closed, head turned towards his big brother.

Dean smiles a little before carefully pulling back out into traffic, the Impala purrs reassuringly underneath him. "Bitch." He murmurs quietly, on sleeping ears.

 **END**

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 _Please let me know if you enjoyed it : ) I really love writing these little fillers that the I feel we miss out on in the show!_


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